Secrets of the Forbidden Blood
by Darth Mezcal
Summary: Daiscus Amell is a mage reveling in his freedom from the chantry. The fight against the blight is progressing rapidly. However, he has a dark secret, and it could lead to unknown power that could save Ferelden, or its ultimate destruction by his hand.
1. Chapter 1

It was a stormy night. Rain beat down from the heavens in a never ending downpour. To go out side was foolish, not to mention dangerous. So it was with suspicion that the innkeeper looked at the rain-soaked group of travelers asking for two rooms for the night. But it wasn't his job to interrogate his customers, even if they were all cloaked and hooded.

"It'll be sixty silvers. Dinner was served just an hour ago, but there might be something left in the kitchens," The innkeeper said in a gravelly voice. The leader nodded his thanks as he handed over the silver. The innkeeper shook his head as he continued to wipe beer mugs. Strange things were more common place everyday now.

"Wynne, Leliana, is it alright if you two take the room down the hall?" Daiscus asked, lowering his rain soaked hood.

"Yes, that's alright with me," Wynne replied, looking at Leliana. She nodded, shivering.

"Kay, see you guys in the morning. We need to be at camp by noon," the Grey warden said. Alistair was already in their room. Daiscus entered and closed the door behind him. The room was bigger than he had expected, and the wash tub was full of clean water. A bed was in the corner opposite it.

"Ah, finally, shelter. I was pretty sure that storm would kill us," Alistair said, setting down his pack in the corner.

"You're telling me? You didn't almost slip into Lake Calenhad. I was this close to having a stone cold bath. Not that I didn't get one, mind you. Blasted rain," Daiscus said, dropping his pack next to Alistair's.

"Speaking of baths, do you mind if…?" Alistair asked questioningly.

"Go for it, though you might want to see how warm the water is first," Daiscus said.

"Got it," he replied, walking over to test the water. He dipped his fingers into it before pulling it out quickly. "Great, stone cold."

Daiscus chuckled as he went to stand before the tub. He put his hand over the water and concentrated his magic on it. His hand glowed bright orange for a moment before he pulled back.

"There you go, one hat bath ready," Daiscus said. Alistair looked positively delighted.

"Next time I have a complaint about a mage, remind me that not all of them are bad," Alistair said, taking off his plate armor. He didn't see the look of hurt and pain that passed over Daiscus' face. He turned around as Alistair finished removing his armor, then his small clothes. He heard his contented sigh as Alistair lowered himself into the hot bath.

"I'd forgotten what this feels like. Almost makes me forget we have a blight to stop," Alistair said, eyes closed. Daiscus removed his rain soaked cloak. His clothes hadn't faired much better, sopping wet.

"If you want anything dried, tell me now," Daiscus said, removing his robe and boots.

"If you would be so kind, my cloak. And maybe my clothes too. I don't want to seem a bother though."

"No, it's fine. I've got nothing better to do at the moment," Daiscus said. He tied a rope from one end of the room to the other, and then hung all their clothes on it. Then he removed his small clothes and wrapped himself in a towel, hanging them up also. Then, concentrating mana into his hand, he made the air heat up around it, then sent the air forward. He moved his hand around their clothes, drying them. Alistair propped an eye open.

"You know, I haven't noticed that much before, but now that I think about it, you use magic a lot. Even for simple things, like heating up water and drying clothes. I thought the circle taught against such things," Alistair said. Daiscus kept his bare back to him.

"That is what the circle taught, yes. But I am no longer bound by their rules," Daiscus said quietly, thoughtfully. "I hated the tower. I hated almost everything it stood for. Slaves to the Chantry. No move is made that is not watched by the Templars. It is a prison, and every waking moment is torture. I was glad to escape from there. I was even glad to help Jowan to escape from there."

"Jowan, the blood mage?" Alistair said questioningly.

"Yes."

"I guess I can see where you're coming from. I didn't have the happiest life either. But nothing compared to what you say you had," Alistair said, sinking back into the tub.

Daiscus finished drying their clothes, slightly drained from the constant use of magic. Soon afterwards, Alistair hopped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around himself. Daiscus was sitting on the bed, and Alistair sat down next to him.

"If it makes any difference, I'd like to say thank you. You've made some hard choices, but they've always turned out for the better. You're a good person. You found my mother's amulet… I can't remember the last time I've had a real friend. Even when I told you I was Maric's bastard, you treated me just the same. Just, thanks for everything," Alistair said. Daiscus looked at his friend curiously.

"You know Alistair, you're not too hard to get along with. Unless, off course, you're Morrigan," Daiscus said, grinning.

"No arguing with that," Alistair replied, glad to have the fuzzy moment done with. He stood up to find his small clothes. Daiscus walked over to the tub and reheated it, purifying it as he did so. Then he removed the towel and settled into the steaming warmth of the tub. Alistair was quite right; one could forget that they had a blight to stop.

"So, do you want the bed, or the nice and dry bedroll on the floor?" Alistair asked.

"Whatever you don't want," came the reply.

"Right then, I'll flip a silver, heads, you win, tails, I win." Alistair pulled the coin and flipped it into the air. He caught it. Tails. "Tough luck, my friend."

Daiscus barely acknowledged. He was lost in memories.

"_I've done so many stupid things, let down so many people. I just want to do something good for once," Jowan said earnestly, looking through the cell bars at Daiscus and his companions._

_"He seems honest in his intention to redeem himself. I say let him," Leliana said, looking at Daiscus. _

_"He's your friend. You decide," Alistair added. Daiscus looked at Jowan. They had had so much in common, at the tower. Trapped in a prison, wanting to be free. And now, they had even more in common than anyone but Daiscus himself realized. _

_"Jowan, I understood your actions in the tower. You were able to have your freedom. But why didn't you make something of it?" Daiscus said, suddenly angry. "Why did you have to hurt more people? You said that once you were free of the tower, you would give up magic. I didn't believe it, but I thought that you would at least do _something_ with your life." _

_Daiscus suddenly spun around, his back facing the cell. The other companions glanced at each other warily; they had never heard the full story of what lead to Daiscus's recruitment into the wardens. But more than that, they were witnessing a side of their leader that they had never seen before. He was usually calm and collected. Now, he was torn and confused._

_"Please, if our friendship meant anything to you, let me out of this cell. I just want to make things right," Jowan pleaded, his eyes begging. Daiscus was silent for a moment._

_"It did Jowan. Your friendship was all that kept me going at times," Daiscus said quietly. Then he turned and opened the cell, the key hanging on a hook far to the right. _

Daiscus was jolted from his memory by Alistair, who was snoring. He chuckled slightly as he got up from the tub, drying off with the towel. Alistair was Daiscus' best friend, even if Alistair hadn't noticed it. He was simple and funny (most of the time), but deadly with a blade. And he cared about things, people. It was so different from the circle, where apprentices vied for favor of the enchanters, and always the struggle of Mage against Templar.

Daiscus put on his small clothes and a pair of sleeping shorts, and then spread his beadroll on a dry spot on the wooden floor. Curling up in, his last thoughts before sleep took him were of white flowers with red centers, and a beautiful Orliasian Bard smiling.

Daiscus' dreams were, as always, frightening. Could wardens never dream of anything but Darkspawn? It didn't seem possible. But this dream was worse. He could see the Archdemon, in all of its deadly majesty. Roaring, it looked directly at Daiscus. He could feel the power in its gaze. Daiscus awoke, covered in sweat. Why was he affected so by the dreams? Alistair had no problem sleeping, as he made apparent by the quiet snoring. But no more sleep would come this night. He left the room, not even bothering to grab a shirt.

Daiscus made his way quietly out of the inn, and onto a nearby hill. And there he sat, looking at the approaching sunrise, the cool morning air brushing against his bare chest and back. Breathing deeply, he let his troubles be swept away by the breeze. But a nagging secret that wouldn't be moved. And Daiscus didn't know what to do about it. How could he tell them?

He sought his mind for the answer. There was always just telling them right now. But that wouldn't work. He could see Alistair's betrayed expression, and Wynne's deadly glare. His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps. Light graceful ones. He turned to see Leliana coming toward him, dressed in her Drakeskin armor.

"Here you are. I knocked on your door, and heard only Alistair's snoring. So, I went in, and found your empty bedroll. And now I find you here, gazing at the sunrise, lost in thought. Ah, and you're not even properly dressed yet," she said in her Orlaisian accent. Daiscus's heart sped up just a tad at the sound of her voice.

"I couldn't sleep," he said evenly, turning his gaze back to the sunrise. Leliana sat down next to him, gazing into the coming dawn.

"So beautiful," she said softly. Daiscus didn't hesitate.

"Not as beautiful as you," he said, turning to look at her. Then, realizing what he had said, he blushed, turning away. Her gaze turned to him, eyes lingering on the finely toned muscles of his back.

"You're too sweet," she replied. She knew he liked her. And she liked him back. More than he new. But he didn't need to know that quite yet. He turned to look at her. He was once again seized by her beauty, the morning light accentuating every curve of her lips, the bright intelligence in her eyes, and the overall beauty of the woman before him.

"I-I need to go get ready," he mumbled, getting up and heading back to the inn. She smiled at him, and then watched the sunrise for a moment longer.

Daiscus arrived to find a still sleeping Alistair. He chuckled at the sight of his fellow Grey warden curled up in a blanket. But he would let him sleep, just a bit longer. Pulling on his custom Mage robes, Daiscus readied for their last few miles before they reached the happy smiling faces of Sten, Shale, and Zevran. Not. But camp was camp, and they had to get the supplies back to them.

"Alistair, time to get up," Daiscus said, shaking the sleeping man's shoulder. He didn't respond. The younger warden sighed. So be it. Ripping the blanket away from poor Alistair, Daiscus yelled just loud enough to wake him up, "Alistair, Darkspawn!" Alistair jumped up, hand reaching for a sword that wasn't there. Of course, he was still in his small clothes.

"Wha- where?" he said groggily. Daiscus was laughing merrily to himself. After a moment, Alistair saw that there were no Darkspawn.

"Oh, think you're funny do you?" He said half angrily.

"You wouldn't wake up, so I improvised. Worked quite well, wouldn't you say?" Daiscus said. But then he felt it; Alistair did too. A malevolent presence approaching.

"Darkspawn."

"Come out as soon as you can," Daiscus said. Alistair was already strapping on his armor.

"Wynne, Darkspawn!" he shouted as he flew out the door and into the hall. Wynne was right behind him as he hurried through the inn door. He ran up the hill he had just sat on, and then he saw them: Hurlocks with a heavily armored Alpha. _Great _he thought. _Just when we don't have our melee fighter to take the charge, _he thought. They were about twenty feet away. They spotted him, the sun glinting off the polished shaft of Daiscus' staff.

Gathering mana into his hands, he focused it into a raging ball of fire. He heard Wynne cast an affliction spell as he hurled his spell into the midst of the charging Darkspawn. Its concussive fire wave threw all but the alpha to the ground, who continued charging. Leliana appeared from behind a bush and quickly slashed the throats of two fallen Darkspawn, moving to the next couple as they started to get up.

Daiscus waited until the Alpha was in range before unleashing his next spell. A wave of ice spewed from his outstretched hands onto the Alpha, covering it completely. Wynne quickly followed it with a stonefist, shattering it.

Alistair was out of the in now, clad in silverite armor. He ran over to Leliana, who was facing two last Darkspawn. Charging from their blind side, Alistair bashed one over the head with his shield as he stabbed the other. Leliana quickly impaled the dazed Darkspawn with both her blades, finishing it.

"Is that the last of them?" Wynne asked from Daiscus's side. He glanced around, concentrating on his link to the Darkspawn. Then he spotted the two hunks of rock falling from the sky.

"Get down!" Daiscus shouted, throwing himself at Wynne, knocking her away. The boulder smashed right behind him, showering him in sharp pieces of rock. Daiscus looked over to Alistair and Leliana watching as the second boulder clipped Alistair's shoulder, sending him to the ground. It was then that Daiscus spotted two Ogres down the road, stalking ever closer. Leliana was the first to recover from the stone barrage, quickly getting to her feet. The ogres were about twenty feet apart.

Daiscus got to his feet, blood dripping from his temple. He pulled Wynne up. She immediately started to work on Alistair, healing spells surrounding him in a glowing nimbus.

The lead ogre bent down to rip up another boulder, but Daiscus was quicker. He quickly hurled a stonefist at it, hitting it squarely in the chest. It staggered back, and Leliana took her chance, rushing forward with both Duelist blades raised. But the Ogre spotted her before she could make her attack. With a swipe of its massive arm, Leliana was hurled back thirty feet into the Inn door. It shattered, and she was lost in its darkened depths.

Alistair heaved himself up. With a quick word, Daiscus sent his sword blazing. A battle cry rang through the air as Alistair charged the encroaching ogre, ducking under its initial sweep. He stabbed upward, impaling his blade deep into the massive forearm.. The beast howled in rage, swinging its stabbed arm. Alistair avoided the arm, but the hilt of his sword slammed into him, throwing him back.

Daiscus was ready, and so was Wynne. A bolt of lightning seared through the air, hitting the Ogre in it chest. It bellowed in rage, but Wynne quickly followed Daiscus's attack with an arcane bolt. The ogre swayed a moment, then quickly shrugged it off, then came toward the new threat, Alistair's sword still in its arm.

It was then that Daiscus learned of his soon to be fatal mistake: they had forgotten the second ogre. Daiscus could see Alistair being hurled through the air. Wynne had no warning as the silverite armored warrior slammed into her. Daiscus could hear something snap as they went to the ground.

_This is bad. Really really bad, _Daiscus thought as he turned to face the two Darkspawn. He was the only thing standing between his friends and the monsters. There was only one way out. It could mean Daiscus's death, but he would NOT let his friends be murdered by these fiends. He would not let darkness consume Leliana's smile, nor Alistair's jokes.

Daiscus quickly pulled out a concealed dagger. The ogre was only ten feet away now, and it snorted in amusement at the sight of the pitiful weapon. But Daiscus was not to be deterred: in one smooth motion, he cut down his forearm.

This was dangerous. Daiscus didn't have enough experience to perform this spell safely, but he knew how to cast it. Blood control was beyond his ability, but he would NOT let his friends die.

Blood splurted from the gash, and using the life essence in it, he sent his magic at the lead ogre. Daiscus could feel the ogre's weak will, and he crushed it. He could feel his life draining away, but he felt power fill him as he felt the blood in the ogre, and Daiscus's senses raced through the ogre's corrupted body. With a deft command, Daiscus sent the ogre back to its companion, assault in its small mind.

Daiscus's life essence flickered. He'd had no idea it would take so mush energy to sustain the spell. But he felt a deep and dark satisfaction as his ogre lowered its head and rammed its horns into the enemy Darkspawn. Ichor splattered as it roared. His ogre reached up and grabbed its enemy's horns, and with a great wrench, broke its neck.. Daiscus was falling now. With one last command, he made the remaining ogre break its own neck. The last thing he saw before darkness consumed him was Alistair's shocked and betrayed expression. Then he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews. I'm pretty excited about this story. Please, if there is anything that you think that I could change for the better, let me know. And, once again, please review. It lets me know if I doing okay._

A mass of roiling black clouds hung over the land. Darkness descended swiftly, for all light was consumed by the waiting storm. The camp was dark and silent, no light present but for the flickering flames of the fire and the soft glow of Shale's crystals. Alistair paced in front of the fire, glaring into its depths, seeking answers that couldn't be answered. His face was a stone mask, as impenetrable as the dark clouds above. But his mind was as in a state of chaos.

Why should he care what happened to the blood mage? Why should it matter if he died? One less apostate for the Chantry and the Templars to deal with. This was the duty bound side of Alistair's mind speaking. Yet the other half of the ex-templar, the half that was caring and compassionate, fought against it. Daiscus was the first true friend he had had in a long time. The junior warden cared what happened Alistair, how he felt. He had been there for him on multiple occasions, listening and never judging.

Alistair didn't know what to think. Daiscus was a blood mage. Yet he was also a good friend. Should he feel concern for the man lying close to death, or betrayal at keeping such a dark secret?

His thoughts were interrupted by Wynne. She was motioning from inside Daiscus' tent, calling for him to come. Alistair shambled forward, ducking his head into the tent.

Daiscus was naked save for his small clothes, his torso covered in blood soaked bandages. A massive bandage wound around his left forearm, and multiple bandages were on his legs. He was in bad shape.

"I've managed to stabilize him for now. It seems that whatever… blood magic he used drained him of almost all of his life essence, not to mention he's lost a lot of blood. Most of his energy is gone, with hardly any left to begin the healing process," she whispered. Dark circles framed her eyes, exhausted from the effort of keeping Daiscus alive.

"I wouldn't have thought…" Alistair said, gazing at his leader and friend.

"I know. He was such a promising student. He was a little rebellious, but I never would have guessed that it would lead to this," Wynne said softly.

"Yet he saved our lives with that dark magic," Alistair whispered. Suddenly, Daiscus' body tensed, his back arching and fists clenching. Pain was etched into every feature of his face, and a deep, guttural groan escaped his lips. Wynne hurried to his side and immediately applied healing magic. He relaxed somewhat, but his face was still filled with anguish.

"Wynne, what happens when an apprentice uses a spell that they're not experienced enough for?" Alistair asked. She glanced over to him sadly before answering.

"It can be catastrophic. Forces that they can't control are summoned inside them, and then it consumes them. Depending on the spell, it could result in an explosion of fire or decaying of the body. But it is never a happy event. Most of them die. That Daiscus could survive is a testament to his strength of will and power."

Alistair nodded. Wynne returned to healing the downed warden, sipping a lyrium potion as she did so. He returned to the fire, sitting. Once again, he went over the events in his head. The ogre had hurled him at Wynne, cracking a few of her ribs. They both had gone down. Alistair managed to stay conscious, though Wynne was not so lucky. And then he had witnessed true, powerful, blood magic. Even after Daiscus had collapsed, the ogre he'd controlled snapped its opponent's neck, and then its own.

Alistair had been able to recover quickly. Wynne had a few broken bones, and Leliana suffered a concussion. She had luckily slammed into the innkeeper, who was coming out to see what was happening.

After that, Wynne had been able to patch everyone but Daiscus up. They borrowed a wagon and quickly got to camp. The storm soon set in. Wynne immediately set to work in their leader while Alistair gathered everyone up and told them what happened. There were varied responses from the companions. Shale couldn't care less. Sten wore the same stone expression as always. Morrigan and Zevran weren't that concerned. Oghren had been disturbed, drinking more booze than regular. Leliana was completely shocked. She'd seen him only once in the tent, then went to her tent and hadn't come out. But, almost everyone was concerned about his health.

Alistair stared into the fire, seeking answers.

Daiscus was lost in his pain and suffering. Darkness surrounded him as he floundered in a thick sea of blood. There was no hope of surviving. A memory flashed through his mind. A smile as beautiful as the sunrise. And then it was gone. But it gave him a small measure of strength. Suddenly, Daiscus could feel his body. And with that feeling, the pain increased ten fold. He could feel his body spasm, and the cool feeling of healing magic run through it. But the pain didn't stop. He could hear voices, but the darkness came once again, and he could do nothing to stop its encroaching approach. It encircled him in arms of pain, and he was drowning once more.

"Alistair!" Wynne shouted from the tent. It was around seven in the morning. He rushed over from his place by the fire, throwing the tent flap aside. Wynne was kneeling at Daiscus' side, hand glowing blue from the magic. His face was bathed in sweat, and he was as pale as death.

"What's happening?" Alistair asked, kneeling next to her. She gazed forlornly at their leader.

"He's losing," she said.

"Losing? Losing what?" Alistair asked, confused.

"The magic is taking its toll on him. He is losing the will to fight the pain, to live. He's dying," she said. Alistair could hear the others gathering outside.

"Isn't there anything that we can do?" Alistair asked. She shook her head. He glanced behind him. Zevran was standing next to the opening of the tent, with Oghren unusually sober behind him. Sten was standing next to Thane, who was whimpering. And behind them was Shale. Only Morrigan and Leliana were absent.

"No, there is nothing any of us can do. This is his fight," she answered. Silence followed. And then, quietly, Leliana stepped into the tent, her face tear streaked. No one said a word as she knelt next to him. The bard placed a gentle, loving, hand on his face, tracing the curves of his jaw and eyes.

Then, a single note, pure and crisp, radiated out from her lips, deep from her soul. Soon, more notes followed, a song of beauty and love so carnal that it could not be misunderstood. As she sang, Daiscus' tremors eased. His face cleared of the pain that so recently seen on it. Everything was silent but for her voice, all listening to the song of love in this dark world. She finished on pure note, her voice dwindling as the clouds broke their unrelenting cover, and a ray of the sun lighting upon Daiscus' face. Then, quietly, gently, she lowered her mouth to his ear so only he could hear it.

"Come back to us. Come back to me. We need you here, now. We need you to lead us. And I need you." She paused. "I love you." Silence ensued. Daiscus relaxed, his face filling with sunlit peace.

Pain. Pain was his existence. It was all he was, all he knew. It was all he felt. His will to live was waning. One could only fight for so long, for so hard. He was tired of fighting the endless pain. Just let it end. Just let the pain end, let him go free to the endless silence of death.

Suddenly, a shaft of light pierced the darkness of his mind. And with it came a single note of a pure voice. That note soon multiplied into many. Daiscus grabbed at the light, the note, trying to stay afloat in a sea of darkness. But he was sinking.

The light transformed into a familiar figure. She was as bright and shining as a newborn sun. Tenderly, she took his hands and lifted him out of the cyclone of pain, holding him above it, out of it. She embraced him in a loving embrace, and whispered words to him. And he heard.

The darkness was banished by the figure of light. They were in a world of warmth and comfort. He heard her say one last thing.

"I love you."

She held him there, in her loving embrace, and he slept.


End file.
